


Trois Discours

by Elenchus



Series: The Fakest Fake Dating AU [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 13:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19199542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elenchus/pseuds/Elenchus
Summary: Théodule takes his cousin's "friends" to the theater. That would be a euphemism for seduction if Théodule bothered with euphemisms. A coda toLes Amours de Marius.“Then you’ve seen the work already?” said Théodule. “And here I thought I had caught something new – my friends tell me it has been on the stage scarcely a week.”“New to the stage,” agreed Bahorel, “but not to the pen. It was banned from the theaters, but not, surely, from the back rooms of cafes.” He flashed a grin. “A friend of a friend procured the script; we acted the thing out ourselves.”“Well then, how is it?” asked Théodule.“It’s trash,” declared Grantaire, interrupting whatever Bahorel might have said in reply. “Maudlin, improbable, poorly conceived and worse executed. A sorry excuse for what I dare not call a tragedy.”Bahorel hummed genially.  “He’s seen it three times already,” he told Théodule.





	Trois Discours

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a supplement to _Les Amours de Marius_ , in which Marius accidentally starts fake dating Bahorel and Grantaire. Théodule takes shameless advantage.

Bahorel laughed as he greeted Théodule, sending the crown of red roses perched precariously on his head downward into his eyes. He laughed even harder as he readjusted the blooms. “Love’s Garland!” he explained, which was not much explanation at all in Théodule’s books. It seemed to make sense to Grantaire, however, who was standing at Bahorel’s side ( _sans_ flowers).

“I hope you aren’t our Marion tonight,” Grantaire said to Bahorel. “I’ve seen enough of your face; I own I prefer Dorval’s.”

“Then you’ve seen the work already?” said Théodule. “And here I thought I had caught something new – my friends tell me it has been on the stage scarcely a week.”

“New to the stage,” agreed Bahorel, “but not to the pen. It was banned from the theaters, but not, surely, from the back rooms of cafes.” He flashed a grin. “A friend of a friend procured the script; we acted the thing out ourselves.”

“Well then, how is it?” asked Théodule.

“It’s trash,” declared Grantaire, interrupting whatever Bahorel might have said in reply. “Maudlin, improbable, poorly conceived and worse executed. A sorry excuse for what I dare not call a tragedy.”

Bahorel hummed genially.  “He’s seen it three times already,” he told Théodule.

Grantaire did not deny the charge. He shrugged expressively, arms open wide. “The things one does for one’s friends. I am a martyr to their tastes.”

“It’s just as well if you’ve both seen it,” said Théodule. He gave a debonair wink – he’d practiced for weeks in the mirror to get it just right. “Our seats are in a secluded spot, and it will be quite dark…one never knows what distractions there might be.”

* * *

In Théodule defense, the seats he’d picked out _had_ been in a dark, secluded spot. But that was before they’d entered the theater and been enveloped in a veritable sea of humanity – all parts of which seemed to converge upon Bahorel to sweep him up in their raucous merriment. They shouted out what sounded like lines from a play and Bahorel responded in kind, pretending to duel with one and catching another as he affected a collapse. Grantaire was quickly pulled into an argument with one man, then another, then another, as the mob ebbed and flowed and roiled with cheerful shouts. Théodule quickly revised his plans and received the dozens of introductions – each of which he promptly forgot – with good grace. He even managed to wrangle a kiss from a pretty fellow with an atrocious waistcoat before he too was pulled away by other friends.

It was a dizzying experience, and Théodule scarcely notice they’d made it to their seats before the curtain rose and silence – silence, in fact, failed to fall, but at least the room grew somewhat quieter. Up near the orchestra, one man punched another then looked around in clear chagrin at having missed his cue to sit down.

The play itself was almost anti-climactic. Marion’s dress was depressingly chaste, but her lover had excellent legs and Théodule settled back to enjoy the view. He lost track of the plot and persons by the second act and took the chance to steal a nap. He’d stayed out late the night before and fully intended to do so again. When he awoke, Bahorel’s seat was empty and the fellow with the legs seemed to be in prison. He looked familiar – on reflection, Théodule thought he’d been the lead in that play with the Roman name a few months ago, what had it been?

He leaned over to ask Grantaire, and perhaps take the chance to flirt a bit, only to find the man staring at the stage with rapt attention and tears flowing freely down his face. Well, one didn’t interrupt a man who was enjoying his theater, if that was what it could be called. Théodule patted him on the back and looked around for Bahorel. After some searching, he found him several feet up and balanced on some sort of railing, chatting with three or four other young men while gesticulating wildly towards the stage. Bahorel caught sight of Théodule looking up at him and waved cheerily. He gestured at an empty spot on the railing and lifted a brow in invitation. Théodule considered for a moment, then considered how poor his lancer’s uniform would look on him if he broke a leg. He shook his head, with an ounce of genuine regret. But only an ounce.

* * *

On the whole, Théodule thought as he exited the theater, it just went to show that you shouldn’t let yourself fall to, to whatsit. _Hubris_. That was the thing. If one set out to seduce one’s cousin’s scandalous fiancés – only for a bit of fun and practically as a favor, mind you, Théodule would give them back and be able to give Marius a helpful report from an experienced perspective – one had to be ready to be up against a bit of adversity. Not that Théodule wasn’t enjoying himself; he could just imagine what his great-uncle Gillenormand would say if he’d seen the crowd tonight and Théodule's place in it. What a lark! But it was distinctly novel to have taken someone (two someones!) to the theater as part of a seduction and not seduced either of them even a little. It might make a lesser man question himself. But Théodule knew his own worth, especially now that his moustache had been trimmed in the latest style. It might be time for a strategic retreat, but only so that he might regroup and sally forth again in future.

“Well, my friends, a pleasant night indeed. Perhaps we might make plans again soon?”

Grantaire snorted and threw an arm over Théodule’s shoulder. “What, do you have somewhere to be?”

Bahorel claimed Théodule’s free shoulder. “The night is young, the city is bright, and my apartments are nearby.”

Théodule was pleased to note that he’d never really doubted himself at all.

**Author's Note:**

> -The play they’re seeing is Marion de Lorme, by one Victor Hugo. The timeline is a bit off for it to be new - LAdM should be set in 1832 and Marion was [re]opened in August 1831, but it's my canon divergent fic and I make the rules. The lead actors referenced by the character are Marie Dorval and Boccage.
> 
> -"Love's Garland of Roses" is a reference from early in the play.
> 
> -The scene Grantaire is crying at is one where the two male leads are in prison awaiting execution for having fought a duel with each other. Didier decides that he ought to comfort Saverny (despite the fact that Didier is by far the more melancholy of the two) and the two men end up in a strange friendship. “And now we go together into the darkness of the tomb; let us go hand in hand…”
> 
> -Grantaire has cried at that scene every single time, including the time Bahorel read the play out loud all by himself doing funny voices for the different roles.


End file.
